Breaking the Curse
by Honeeym
Summary: For the women of Rebekah and Caroline's family, the first marriage never works out. So, when her highschool sweetheart, Klaus, proposes to her, Caroline endeavors to break the curse that's been weighting on her family since 1864. Short fic: AU, All Human.
1. Prologue

**Disclamer**: I do not own The Vampire Diaries, or make any profit from this story. The majority of the plot draws inspiration from a French movie "Un plan parfait". Everything you do not recognize, I own.

**Summary**: For the women of Rebekah and Caroline's family, the first marriage never works out. So, when her highschool sweetheart, Klaus, proposes to her, Caroline endeavors to break the curse that's been weighting on her family since 1864.

**Pairings**: Klaroline/Daroline, Mabekah, Klonnie; mentions of Stebekah, Datherine and Delena.

**Warning**: AU, all human. Heavy reworking of the dynamics we know in Mystic Falls.

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**Breaking the Curse - Prologue**

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Rebekah Donovan could feel the silent disapproval of her family weighting on her as they politely followed the awkward one-sided conversation. Her blue eyes met those of her husband, and she had to bite the insides of her cheek to suppress a smile. Matt Donovan was known for his good-natured patience, but it was running thin by the minute. Quickly glancing at the other guests, she feared it wouldn't be long before someone said something. She prayed they would hold it a little.

The spacious dining room wasn't as crowded as it had been the year before. Rebekah's younger sister, Caroline, had made other plans – and really, seeing as the night was a disaster, who could blame her? Nik, her best friend, had politely declined the invitation, explaining he loathed family gatherings; he could not be blamed either, since his family was everything but that. As for her colleagues, having heard who else she had invited, they considered other options. _How right they had been._

Around the table sat five of Rebekah's most beloved.

She tenderly stared at the older woman sitting further on the right. Liz Forbes had always worn her blonde hair short, but she had consented to letting Rebekah curl them for the occasion. Her blue eyes shone with the same hundred sparkles that illuminated all the girls of this family, and Rebekah liked the idea that, when looking at her mother, she had a direct sneak peek of what she'd look like in the future. Liz had been the sheriff of Mystic Falls, once upon a time; she had passed her strength on to her two daughters.

As for Bill, the patriarch, he'd always been closer to Caroline. His character matched his younger daughter's so perfectly that Rebekah had never even been saddened by this apparent discrepancy in affections. Tonight, he was wearing his finest suit, always seeking to establish his authority on the newest masculine additions to the family. Rebekah smiled to herself when she caught him glaring at the man sitting in front of him.

Stefan Salvatore, Rebekah's ex-husband. Even now, three years after they had made the common decision to go their separate ways, she couldn't help but marvel at his handsomeness. Aristocratic features: aquiline nose, chiseled jaw and sparkling green eyes, he was the breathing image of beauty. He exuded charm and mystery with every breath he took; she had really believed it was the one. _He was the first man she ever loved. _

He never missed Christmas Eve. If they had definitely failed their marriage, the same could not be said of their divorce. They had managed to form a solid bond of friendship, for the sake of their 7-year-old daughter, Esther. The fair-haired child had conveniently taken the best of her parents: Mommy's golden hair, and Daddy's eyes. She sat beside Stefan, happily feasting on the gourmet dinner she had helped her mother cook.

On Esther's right was Matt. Rebekah's husband – the One. Dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, he did not fit the same category of beauty as Stefan, but he was breathtaking nonetheless. Broad-shouldered and lean, he could easily be mistaken for an athlete. He had been, back in the day, before he critically injured his knee. Now, instead of playing, he coached the football team at Mystic Falls High. Matt Donovan was everything a woman in her right mind could desire: trustworthy and caring, he had a sharp sense of humor, and was the most protective man she had ever met. He never rushed into anything, a nice balance for Rebekah's fierce and impatient character.

"I can't believe he cheated on me. I don't even know how this became my life."

The last guest's voice pulled Rebekah out of her reverie. Bonnie Bennett. The only one who wasn't family – the one who had no business here. Bonnie was the definition of exotic beauty. Her forest-green eyes contrasted sharply with the caramel tone of her skin, and her long, wavy brown mane gave her something goddess-like. She carried herself with pride; she was a twenty-first century self-made, independent woman.

She had opened a bookshop in town, and hired Rebekah as a PR agent. The job opportunity had come at the most convenient time, and the blonde felt indebted to this woman. Having heard of Bonnie's recent divorce because of town gossip, she hadn't found it in her heart to leave her alone on such an evening. She had insisted to have her join the family, at least for dinner.

_Clearly, it had been a mistake._

The dark-skinned woman had spent the last forty-five minutes recounting every way in which her marriage had failed. The fact that her younger husband was too immature, his annoyance towards the fiercely independent woman that she was, his reluctance to have children. Quite honestly, should Rebekah – or any of the attendees – run into one Jeremy Gilbert, the man would be sorry.

"He ruined our marriage to bang some stupid waitress," Bonnie exclaimed emphatically.

Liz choked on her stuffed turkey and glared at Bonnie. The latter shrugged apologetically when Esther leaned over her father and asked what "bang" meant.

"Maybe it's time to change the subject," Stefan offered kindly, slightly amused.

"To take your mind off things, Bonnie," Matt added.

"Yes, tell us about the bookshop", Bill encouraged.

Liz and Rebekah exchanged a glance, and giggled softly. Boys would be boys; their instinct urged them to rescue the damsel in distress. They had rivaled in wits and compliments to restore Bonnie's weakening self-confidence, causing a few discreet frowns to crease the blondes' foreheads. But enough was enough. This was a Christmas dinner, not a therapy session. Rebekah cleared her throat and flipped her hair over her shoulder, signaling a change in attitude. She extended a perfectly manicured hand to grab the bottle of wine and pour some in Bonnie's empty glass.

"It's okay that your marriage didn't work out," she started. "It was the first."

Bill Forbes dropped his napkin on the table, manifesting his discontent; he had had more trouble recovering from the divorce than the people involved. His granddaughter looked up from her plate, suddenly very curious about the evolving dynamics around her. Sensing her uneasiness, Stefan pulled her onto his lap.

"There is a curse," Rebekah revealed.

That last word caused Liz to nod feverishly, and Stefan to shrug carelessly. Bill huffed under his breath, growing more and more exasperated. Matt was the only one who seemed pleased by where this was going.

"Not with the curse nonsense again," Bill begged, glancing at his wife in hopes she might side with him.

"Nonsense?" she said. "Then why are we still not married after forty-five years?"

Everybody around the table laughed at the slight blush that covered Bill's cheeks. People called Liz "Mrs. Forbes" out of habit, but they had never really made their union official. It was rather progressive, back then, to engage in a steady relationship, buy a house and start a family without being married. But there was the curse and Liz refused to lose Bill to it.

"We are not married because you, my darling, are a superstitious chicken," Bill replied teasingly. "That's why."

"What is this about?" Bonnie asked, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "What is the curse?"

Rebekah nodded to her mother, triggering the familiar process of sharing the family history. Liz cleared her throat and poured herself some more wine – there would be a lot of talking, and she needed her throat hydrated. She enjoyed the curiosity shining in Bonnie's eyes; mostly because it had managed to silence her. She began her tale before the young woman could be bothered to mention her ex-husband again.

"Ever since the year 1864, the women in our family have come to witness their first marriages systematically end badly. For every last one of them, heartbreak and misery: the husband would make them miserable, or die, or cheat, or just leave. It never worked out."

Rebekah looked at Stefan for emphasis.

"Hey, at least, I gave you this little princess," he objected, dropping a kiss in their daughter's hair.

The child giggled and nested her face into her father's neck, her sun-kissed hair obscuring his face.

"We are good parents," Rebekah granted with a tender smile.

Bonnie looked between the ex-lovers, and envied the familiarity between them – her interactions with Jeremy were filled with awkward silences and resentment. She hoped that one day, they would be able to be like Rebekah and Stefan, although they were not bound by the birth of a child.

"But we weren't that great a couple. We couldn't have been," the blonde finished. "There is only one woman we have ever heard of, who managed to dodge the bullet."

"And who is that?" Bonnie asked, eager to know. "How did she do it?"

"My sister, Caroline," Rebekah said. "As for the how, it's a long story. It'll keep us busy for a while. Let's move to the couch, shall we?"

The women left the dining table under the men's soft, but faintly exasperated eyes.

**tbc ... **

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**Author's Note**: Heya Daroline lovers, here I go again ! This is my first time messing with the usual codes of relationships in Mystic Falls, I'm so very nervous. This fic will be a little different from my others, mostly because it will be much funnier. Five or six chapters, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Please, drop me a line ;)


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Caroline Forbes would never forget the day she met the One.

_Sitting in her Senior Year History class, she glanced at her watch every two minutes, anxiously waiting for Alaric Saltzman, the teacher, to make an appearance. He had made an annoying habit of being fashionably late, but she prayed to the Gods he would show up soon. He had to. Or else, she would explode. _

_She was having a hard time planning the Decade dance. Rebekah, her older sister, who was part of the committee although she had graduated four years prior, wanted to throw a Roaring Twenties dance, while _she _had had the Seventies on her mind for months. She was hoping M. Saltzman would side with her. _

_Caroline dropped her head onto her arms, closing her eyes impatiently against her desk. As if on cue, she heard masculine footsteps entering the room, but didn't look up. They all knew the drill: he would apologize for being late, ask them what they had studied the week before, and hesitate five more minutes before starting the lecture. _

_However, when she heard nothing but the sound of chalk against the blackboard, she looked up, and her jaw fell. She bit her lip to suppress the sound of annoyance that threatened to escape her. Although the newcomer was turning his back on her, she could tell he wasn't Alaric. He was a bit shorter, his hair a bit lighter. Where was Alaric? Awaiting an explanation, she read the name on the chalk board._

Niklaus Mikaelson.

_Caroline glanced at Matt, who was sitting next to her, and giggled discreetly. What was with these History teachers and their strange names? Alaric, and now Niklaus? The blue-eyed football player shook with silent laughter; they were interrupted by a deep voice, characterized by a thick British accent. The blonde rolled her eyes – what was a British dude doing, teaching them American History, anyway?_

_"The principal would prefer you called me M. Mikaelson, but please, call me Klaus," the man said. "I am filling in for M. Saltzman for the rest of the year."_

_The cheerleaders giggled, swooning over the natural charm radiating off this man. The jocks protested quietly; Ric was, by far, the best teacher they'd ever had. He cared for educating his students as much as helping them in every other department of their lives. Losing him would probably impact significantly on all of their grades._

_"Let's get to know each other, shall we?"_

_Silence met his rhetorical questions, only broken by a shy "Yes" or "Here" when he called a name from his list. His tone was monotonous, as though he was bored out of his mind. However, Caroline's heart missed a beat when he came to her name. She raised her hand in silence, and gulped when he made eye-contact for longer than necessary. Something too fleeting to be identified flashed through his blue orbs._

_"Miss Forbes, I believe we have matters to discuss," he said with the shadow of a smile. _

_She nodded, her cheeks embarrassingly red, her hands cold with sudden nervousness._

_"After class, then," he said, as if making a promise._

_Her eyes remained fixated on him for the entire duration of the class. The lump in her throat refused to be swallowed, and there was not much she was able to do about the butterflies in her stomach, either._

While her friends rambled about thinking that whoever they were dating at the moment was "the One", Caroline had experienced something radically different with Klaus. From the moment he had smiled at her, an unspeakable entity had materialized, barely a few inches behind her, pushing her towards him during her every waking moment. And in dreams so embarrassingly cheesy that she'd never confess to having had them, even under duress.

The fact that he happened to be a friend of Rebekah's hadn't made things any easier. The older blonde had always tended to be overprotective of Caroline, and the mere idea of her baby sister developing a crush on a teacher had driven her insane. However, even though he seemed to return Caroline's interest, Klaus had a very clear idea of how things should unfold, and although they spent time together outside of school, he didn't allow himself to kiss her until she graduated, and he was no longer her teacher.

When they lips had touched, her suspicions were confirmed. She'd known that no matter what she did, she'd find herself coming back to him. He challenged her, with his unpredictable behavior; he made her smarter, with his taste for art and music; he made her believe in herself, as he convinced her to go to college. Klaus was everything she could ever desire, and more.

Had she been as gifted as he was with drawings, she could have drawn his face in her sleep. The manly contours of it, its clear-cut jaw, its defined lines. Sometimes, she looked at him and marveled that he was every woman's type. The perfect combination of sensitive and strong, romantic and tough, poetic and stern. He could be Hugh Grant one minute, Hugh Jackman the next. Klaus Mikaelson was a catch, and he knew it. His natural charm could have gotten him anywhere, with any woman.

Yet, he had chosen her.

There was something utterly unbelievable about it until he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife. She was eight years younger, and she'd almost always expected him to move on to somebody more mature when he felt the need to settle down. But he'd proposed to her, promising that he could see himself wake up in her arms for the rest of his life, going a little overboard when he said other women had become invisible to him. (She was too emotional to call him out on his BS; the man was a flirt. A harmless, without-any-ulterior-move kind of flirt, but a flirt nonetheless.)

The situation had turned incredibly awkward when she gave no answer to his proposal and told him about the family curse. But still, he hadn't run. Ever since – it had been two months – he'd been trying to reason with what he believed was a legitimate fear of commitment. They lived together alright, but he knew that he was Caroline's first love, her high school sweetheart; he was willing to give her time to think about it.

Which had led her to ask Rebekah for help. Together, they had gone through every minute of Rebekah and Stefan's marriage, to determine whether it really was bound to fail or if it had all been "the curse". Rebekah said there was no reason why Stefan stopped loving her. She said there _was _a curse. And she said they had to find a loophole.

Apparently, the older blonde had completed her mission.

The two sisters were sitting in the Dovonans' kitchen, Esther sat on Caroline's lap and busy with a coloring book. Rebekah had summoned Caroline earlier in the day, asking her to come by when Matt would still be at work so they could talk freely. Matt and Klaus weren't exactly drinking buddies, but they had each other's back when it came to the Forbes women who, they said, could be very dangerous if left alone. Had he suspected anything, Matt could have warned Klaus, and that was the last thing Rebekah needed.

As she watched her sister tickle her daughter, she brought the mug to her lips, and winced as the scorching water burned her tongue. She put the mug down, and focused her attention on her younger sister, whose face bore the traces of worry, despite the smile she forced on her lips. She could easily guess what was torturing her sister: at almost 29, she was still unmarried, and had no kids. It was weighing her down.

"Esther, honey, why don't you let Mom and Auntie Caroline have a grown-up talk? Go finish this in your room, I'll be right there."

The girl pouted in an attempt to gain a few more minutes in the kitchen, but got nothing out of her mother, who gestured her away with amused tenderness. Rebekah made a mental note to tell Stefan that he should stop teaching their daughter how to seduce her way out of situations.

"I have a plan," Rebekah announced when they were alone, her eyes glinting with mischief. "It's a little far-fetched, but it could work."

Caroline looked up at once, a hopeful smile stretching her red-painted lips.

"Don't make me beg, Bekah!"

Rebekah smiled, enjoying her sister's distress all the more, knowing she'd relieve it within seconds. Caroline knew her sister had given much thought to this, from the second she'd signed her own divorce papers. She was usually a down-to-earth woman – not the type to believe in legends and curses – but how could they deny what had happened right in front of them for years, and in front of their mother before that?

She refused to let this curse – or whatever it was – ruin Caroline's relationship with Klaus.

Yes, they had dinner at the Grill every Monday, sang Karaoke every Tuesday, and went to movies every Wednesday. (Apparently, they wrestled between the sheets almost exclusively on Fridays). Yes, they were that annoying couple who never argued, making you feel like your own relationship was on the verge of breaking, if you raise your voice once, by accident. Yes, there was very little room for adventure in their lives even though Caroline had always had big dreams – so what?

If there ever was such a thing as true love, Klaus and Caroline were the perfect example of it. Which was why, after sleepless hours of brainstorming, Rebekah had come up with the perfect plan: if the curse destroyed the first marriage, then Caroline couldn't have Klaus as her first husband. It was as simple as that.

"How is that a genius plan?" Caroline inquired. "All you did was tell me something that I already know."

Rebekah's smile widened, as she held out her hand to retrieve a brown envelope from the nearest drawer. With the spark in her eyes and her self-satisfied smile, she looked like the cat who'd just eaten the bird.

"All I did was arrange you a quick trip to Vegas, where you will meet with one Sergio Micheli who has agreed to stay married to you for the ninety minutes legally necessary to validate and cancel a wedding in Nevada."

It took Caroline a few seconds to put the pieces together, but the moment she did, her face illuminated with both bewilderment and gratitude. She hastily grabbed the envelope.

"Are you crazy?" she said, indulging the rational side of her for a while. "I can't just marry a stranger and hope it'll do."

"And why is that? A marriage is a marriage, no matter how long it lasts."

"Maybe the curse is smarter than that," Caroline objected. "Maybe you need to get married to someone you love, and find out how hard it is, before you can make it work with Husband n°2."

"Nonsense," Rebekah dismissed. "Besides, if that's the curse, you're screwed, sis'. You've never loved anyone but Nik."

Caroline's shoulders slumped at the statement – it was true. She couldn't tell what love was like, outside of him. He'd shaped her behavior, her expectations, her needs. To her, Klaus _was _love.

"What do you have to lose, anyway?" Rebekah pushed.

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "My dignity, if anybody hears about it. My relationship, if Klaus finds out. Or my life, if I'm lucky enough to marry a psycho dude who'll feed me to the coyotes in the desert outside Vegas."

Rebekah laughed heartily at her sister's ability to make a soap opera out of every situation. Despite her being 29, Caroline remained a child at mind in many situations, and the unknown was one of them. Maybe that was why she loved Klaus so much – he challenged her within the limits of her comfort zone.

"Look, it's either that, or not getting married," Rebekah said, her voice comforting. "Not having children. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," Caroline sighed. "But, come on. This is the twenty-first century, for God's sake! Who the Hell doesn't have kids unless they're married, anyway?"

"The man you love, apparently," Rebekah observed with a shrug.

Silence filled the room for a moment as Caroline weighed the pros and cons. It didn't take her long.

"When am I leaving?"

* * *

Caroline stood in the Departures hall of the airport, nervously glancing all around her to make sure she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. Her heart was literally threatening to beat out of her chest as she pondered what she was about to do, the consequences it could have. Was she really going to meet with a stranger and say _I do_?

She was going against every single life principle she'd lived by, so far. She had lied to Klaus, her_ fiancé_ for Heaven's sake: she'd pretended that she was taking Rebekah out of town for the weekend, allegedly because she and Matt were going through a rough patch. She'd made up a story about the growing tensions caused by Stefan's presence in their lives, that was not only related to little Esther. She thought she was going to burst into tears when, ever so trusting, Klaus told her to take as much time as Rebekah needed.

As far as she could remember, Caroline had never been good with secrets. She was that bright, bubbly girl who talked too much – her nature wasn't to be deceitful. As she hid behind a billboard when she thought she saw a friend of Klaus', she wondered how people did this everyday: lying was a perilous exercise, and exhausting to say the least. _I'm never gonna lie again after this, _she promised herself. She almost saw Rebekah rolling her eyes at her. Her sister was so confident this would work that she didn't understand just how big a risk it was. She saw this only as a means to an end; a means to get a happily ever after with Klaus.

And as the passengers for the flight to Las Vegas were called, Caroline decided she'd only think of it as such. She was doing this so she could return to the man she loved and walk down the aisle without the fear of a failed marriage. This was a rehearsal for the real thing, and nothing more. Somewhere along the way, she even convinced herself that Klaus would understand, if he knew. He'd tell her: do whatever you need, sweetheart, as long as I get to spend the rest of my life with you.

_This was complete bullshit. _Klaus had a myriad of qualities, but he wasn't so permissive. Although he wasn't pathologically jealous, he had a hard time trusting people – if he knew what she was about to do, he'd get so angry that he might never look at her again. He had no tolerance for those who betrayed him.

"Could you move, please?"

The blonde snapped out of her thoughts to find herself miraculously sitting on the plane, at the window. She frowned, and looked up to the man who was talking to her.

If his clothes were any indication, he was an artist. He was wearing faded jeans that hung loosely around his hips, and one of these shirts that Klaus wore only on Sundays. His raven black hair fell in messy curls around his face, and he hadn't shaved. He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

She internally rolled her eyes: she was a hundred percent sure he was single. No woman on Earth would let her boyfriend waste such potential. He was GQ cover material, seriously.

"Miss, excuse me, could you – this, ahem, this is my spot," he said. "And stop staring, it's rude."

Her cheeks colored, and her mood shifted back to her grumpiness from earlier. However, she'd been taught well – Rebekah had always told her that the best way to get what she wanted from any man was to charm him. She gave the stranger a small smile and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She was going to marry a stranger, a little harmless flirting wasn't going to hurt.

"I'm sorry," she simpered. "Flying makes me really nervous, and it helps if I can look outside."

_Bekah would be so proud, _she thought. _Let him think he's the strong male helping you ease your fears – genius._

"Well then, you should have requested a window seat," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

Caroline's jaw dropped at the lack of sympathy in his voice. How rude. With a dramatic sigh, she rose from his seat and gave him space to settle. As he put his bags away and took off his leather jacket, he engaged in small talk with an enthusiastic tone, like nothing happened.

"I'm Damon, by the way," he said.

_Demon, more like it, _she almost said.

"Caroline," she conceded as she sat in her rightful spot.

"Pleasure to meet you. For some reason, I just want to call you, Blondie. It suits you," he said, unaware that she was putting her headphones on. "So, how come flying makes you nervous? You're one of these control freaks who panic because they're not flying the damn plane, aren't you?"

The blonde closed her eyes and decided to ignore him. The flight wasn't long – she didn't have to make small talk. She wasn't in the mood anyway. As he kept talking, making assumptions about why she was afraid of flying, she tried to rehearse what she'd say to M. Sergio Micheli. He was going to pick her up from the airport.

"Hey, Blondie."

Damon nudged her, forcing her to open her eyes and take out her headphones, although no music was playing. He was offering her a silver-colored flask. It smelled of Bourbon – Klaus' drink of choice. She looked at him questioningly.

"Want some? It'll help you relax," Damon assured.

Caroline groaned. Of course, she had to get herself the worst possible companion for this flight. Of course. _It's God punishing you for all the lies, Caroline, _she told herself.

"Seriously?" she exclaimed. "The headphones, the eyes closed? Take a hint!"

"Well, well, aren't we feisty? Is it the bad time of the month, or something?"

_How. Effing. Rude. Was. This. Man. _

"If you must know, I'm going to marry a man I've never seen," she snapped. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep, now."

"You two met online?" he questioned.

She glared at him, and he laughed, holding his palms up. _Why was he enjoying annoying her? _

"Well, congratulations," he said.

Then he stopped talking, and she was free to pretend she was asleep.

**tbc...**

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**A/N : I hope you're enjoying the lighter tone of this fic compared to most of my others. I'm having a great time writing it, and I'm all ears if you have any suggestions as to funny scenes and stuff you'd like me to include. How are we feeling about Caroline's love for Klaus, and her meeting with Damon? Think Rebekah's being a good older sister with this crazy idea? Dy'a think it'll work? Review, review, review please :)**


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"This is a _complete _disaster," Caroline whined over the phone. "Sergio just called, he's not coming."

She stood in the Arrivals hall in Las Vegas, watching a constant stream of passengers rush to the luggage conveyor belts. They were like ants, or bees, or any other insects that moved in groups. One word? Annoying.

On the other end of the line, Rebekah was doing her best to calm her sister down. It wasn't such a surprise that the youngster had developed a case of cold feet, and you know, maybe we should be a little more generous on the financial compensation?

"You already promised him $2000," Caroline exclaimed. "Bekah, I'm sure this is a federal offense or something. You're just so stubborn."

"Some say it's a quality," her sister said challengingly. "Let's just come up with a plan B."

"Plan A was a terrible idea in the first place," Caroline argued. "I'm coming home as soon as I can get a flight."

"No, you're not," her sister said. "You're going to find a guy, get him drunk, and marry him. When he sobers up, he'll want the whole thing cancelled. Piece of cake."

Caroline sighed loudly, annoyed that Rebekah's idea wasn't completely nonsensical. Klaus wasn't expecting her for another three or four days. Besides, she'd come this far; she might as well give it a try. And this was Vegas, for Heaven's sake: the statistics for drunk males were probably higher here than anywhere else in the world. Piece of cake, indeed.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll keep you—"

Her words died in her throat as the solution to her problem showed itself, and she gasped.

In the crowd, she spotted Damon Salvatore, the man she'd had the displeasure of having for a flight companion. He had waited for the crowd to scatter, and was now walking towards the luggage conveyor belts. Once again, she found herself regretting the waste of his potential, and his poor manners. But once again, she was forced to admit that he was a little pretty – those blue eyes were literally to die for.

He seemed to be enjoying a private joke of his own, and soon, Caroline's smile mirrored his.

She was suddenly very grateful for Damon's incessant talk during the flight. She hadn't said much, which was outrageously out of character, but she had listened. His talk hadn't been of interest to her, but it was better than thinking about Klaus, back home, who was probably hoping that Rebekah was going to be fine when she wasn't even depressed to begin with.

"Care?" Rebekah called. "Still here?"

_Kenya_, Caroline suddenly remembered. Damon had been hired by a website to do a photo report on a safari they were going to sell. Basically, he was going on a four-day vacation, to bring back pictures of the hotels, restaurants, and beautiful landscapes.

"I think I got the right guy. Call you later, sis."

* * *

"I'd like a ticket to Nairobi, please," Caroline chirped at the woman standing behind the desk. "Next flight."

"Right away, Miss."

She held back a smile when Damon turned back on his heels and threw her a puzzled glance.

"What happened to the groom?"

She blinked several times, feigning confusion.

"Didn't you say you were getting married?" he insisted.

The blonde gave an apologetic glance to the hostess, one of those glances that meant _at least he has the looks, you know_. She turned to Damon with a dazzling smile, and noticed how his eyes widened slightly. He was surprised that she'd display such friendly behavior after giving him the cold shoulder before.

"Oh, honey, I was joking, I don't even have a boyfriend," she lied.

"You seriously need to work on that sense of humor, Blondie," he remarked.

"You'll have time to help me with that during the flight," she said.

"You're going to Nairobi, too?" he asked with a frown. "Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure," she said, carrying on with the lie. "It's just so different, and exotic, and just – I love it."

Caroline focused her attention back on the hostess, who smiled patiently. Unfortunately, the last tickets available for that flight were in Business Class. The blonde faintly remembered how Damon had argued that wasting money on Business Class tickets was a shame.

"Maybe you could upgrade someone?" she suggested. "I'm sure nobody will object."

The brunette hesitated, and started to type on her computer to look for a passenger who travelled alone. She had to stop when Damon waved his hand in front of her face.

"Let me help," Damon said. "Upgrade me, and make sure you give the lady my window seat."

Caroline closed her eyes with defeat. Was he deliberately ruining everything? There was absolutely no way this was going to be a piece of cake. The man was absolutely clueless.

But she never, ever backed out of a challenge. She was Caroline freaking Forbes, and this man was going to be her husband, at all costs. Her future happiness depended on it.

Damon winked at her and as he walked away. She inhaled deeply and forced a smile back on her lips.

"Thanks for the upgrade, Blondie."

"My pleasure," she said enthusiastically. "Maybe you could buy me dinner when we land."

"Maybe," he said as he walked off.

* * *

Caroline barely managed to wait an hour to sneak into Business Class to talk to Damon. She was virtually incapable of focusing on anything else, anyway. There was a fun side to this entire masquerade: it had been years since she'd needed to pay attention to her words around a man, and even longer since she'd needed to seduce one. The game was kind of exhilarating, and after sixty minutes of rehearsal, she believed she was ready.

She'd sit next to him and give him those doe eyes you only saw in Disney movies, then she'd ask him to give her a tour of his favorite places in Nairobi. If she was going to travel to the other side of the world, she might as well bring back a few pics to make Bekah jealous. Of course, she'd have to keep them safely hidden somewhere, but she didn't want to think about it for the time being.

Taking a deep breath, she excused herself to her new flight companion (far less chatty, but far less attractive also), and marched to the front of the plane after checking her reflection in her pocket mirror. The flight attendant let her through after she explained she was only going to spend a little time with her "dear friend".

As she came closer to him, she decided to be bold and take a sit right there, on his lap. There was a woman sitting next to him anyway, and the more obvious she would be, the hardest it would be for him to resist her. At least, she was hoping that's the way things would turn out. She had no idea of how well her power of seduction worked on people, for lack of practice.

"Hey, stranger," she said as she made her move.

Damon's eyes widened in surprise, once again. He couldn't seem to figure out what she wanted with him, and why she had shifted from distant to so openly flirtatious. The change was appreciable, without a doubt – she could see it in his eyes – but surprising, nonetheless. However, he concealed his interrogations under a smirk.

"Missing me already?"

"Maybe," she purred. "I was bored, all alone."

Caroline was gaining confidence as seconds went by and Damon relaxed, engaging in normal conversation with her, however infusing just as much tension and double entendre as necessary. He'd finally joined her in the seduction game, and if she had to be a hundred percent honest, he wasn't bad at it, at all. There was a clear line that he seemed unwilling to cross for the moment, but she could tell he was a ladies' man – or at least, had been.

"How come you're still single?" Caroline asked as she grazed her nails across his exposed bicep. "From what I've seen, you could easily be voted Boyfriend of the Year."

"You're one to talk," he deflected. "There must be a lucky bastard out there who'd kill me if he saw us like this."

Caroline's heart dropped as Klaus' face passed through her mind. For a split second, she was painfully aware of the position she was in, with a complete stranger. How was she irrational enough to believe in a century-old curse that could be broken only like this? Could it be that she had cold feet, and that was the reason for her acting so recklessly?

"I haven't been very lucky," she shrugged. "But you didn't answer the question."

Damon sighed and absent-mindedly let his hand move up and down her crossed legs. His eyes became distant for a second as he reminisced about his past loved. Caroline's instinct was to soothe the hurt in his eyes.

"There was this girl," he said. "Katherine."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say she turned out to be someone completely different from the girl I fell in love with."

He gave a tight smile, signaling that this conversation was over; Caroline nodded in agreement, and got him to talk more about his job. What had made him want to become a photographer? What kind of pictures did he take?

"When I get a moment on camera, it's mine forever," he explained.

Caroline laughed softly at how simple it seemed to be – he could have said that it was raining outside with the same nonchalance, just like it was obvious. She liked that about him, this ability to discuss serious matters with such a blatant carelessness.

As she gave some thought to his answer, she found that it resonated inside of her. Photography gave him complete control over things; he was free to capture happiness and never let it go. Sometimes, she found herself wishing she could do the same.

Without thinking, she grabbed his cellphone, switched it to Camera Mode and extended her arms to fit both of them in the frame.

"Selfies aren't my favorites," he said. "But I guess I can make an exception, just this once."

From the corner of her eye, she saw him grinning to the camera, and she did the same. She glanced at the screen and giggled before turning it to him. There was an odd sense of familiarity coming off of the picture that was miles away from reality, but she didn't give it much thought.

"Look at that," she said. "We'd make a cute couple."

Damon shook his head with a smile while she sent the picture to her phone via Bluetooth. He couldn't have missed that she hadn't given him her number, but he didn't comment on it, and she was grateful.

"What about you?" Damon asked to break the silence. "What do you do?"

"I am a fashion designer, actually," she said. "I could use your services, one of these days."

Damon laughed softly, and she could see that he wasn't in the least surprised.

"Are you wearing you?" he asked.

A moment passed when she pretended to think, and then she gave him a devilish smile.

"Only the lingerie, today," she informed.

His jaw fell, and Caroline internally groaned slightly when she was asked to walk back to her seat. _Way to ruin everything, hostess-whoever. _The flight was going to be very long and if she couldn't distract herself, she would start thinking. Which was going to lead to no good, at all. However, she still had a little pride left, and she refused to appear clingy in his eyes.

"I'll see you later," she whispered to him.

He nodded silently, and she congratulated herself when she noticed the hint of longing that passed in his eyes when she got to her feet. Maybe four days would be more than enough, after all. Maybe she could do this – be a seductress, with no strings attached. Maybe he could be her one and only pre-wedding indiscretion, her last taste of recklessness before she said "I do".

"We can talk over dinner," Damon offered.

Caroline nodded silently, and leaned down to drop a kiss on his lips. It was either now, or never. She wasn't planning on doing it, but she figured that, if she was really trying to start something with Damon, that's what she would have done. And so, she did. When her lips touched to his, she held her breath.

The sensation felt more foreign than she had expected. Last time she had kissed a random guy, it was in Junior Year – so long ago that she had forgotten all about it. Kissing, to her, was synonymous with the soft stubble on Klaus' cheeks, his distinctive taste of coffee, his thin lips, his eagerness. And for the two seconds that she kissed Damon, she picked up on all the differences: fuller lips, soft cheeks, no reaction. Klaus responded immediately to her solicitations, always. This? This was unnatural, and awkward and wrong.

She pulled away from him and walked back to her seat without so much as a glance back. Damn Rebekah and her contagious determination, this was not a piece of cake. This was cheating. This was making her sick to her stomach. A happy marriage with Klaus was everything she had ever wanted, but she needed limits. She needed to decide how far she was willing to go; and she knew, deep inside, that kissing Damon Salvatore was the best (or was it the worst?) she could do.

* * *

The succession of events that led them to their dinner table in that typical Kenyan restaurant would deserve to be turned into a comedy for cable, or something.

Surprisingly enough, they landed in Kenya before she had time to blink. The emotions of the day having worn her out, she'd fallen asleep as soon as she returned to her seat. She had opened her eyes when she found herself bathed in dazzling light – the warm sun of Africa was telling her she'd forgotten to bring SPF.

Then, there was this ridiculous moment of panic when she realized that he'd get off the plane before she did, and that she could lose track of him for good. Then, she'd be stuck in a city she didn't know, where people probably spoke every language known to man but English, with nowhere to go and no fake-husband-to-be. She had to have a cab follow the shuttle he'd taken, up to his hotel.

After that, if this cat-and-mouse game hadn't been enough, there had been the misunderstandings. Because she'd seen him get off the shuttle to enter this luxurious hotel, she'd assumed that was where he was staying. She'd managed to sneak in and "borrow" a bathrobe from the pool to cover her clothes. She "ran into him" at the reception, her hair wet from the lukewarm tea she'd poured on it to make him think she was just coming out of a swim, only to discover that he was here only to take some pictures.

Honestly, this one had been funny. She pretended that she only checked into this hotel to enjoy the pool before she enjoyed more "local" accommodations. She was happy to take his advice on where to spend the night, though. When he asked where she'd put her bag, she pointed to the first red bag she could get her eyes on, convinced it was hers.

As they settled in two separate rooms in the worst hotel to ever have existed, she realized that she had the right bag…with the wrong contents. All there was in that one were male sweatpants and tired jumpers. So they had to go and get her new clothes. It could have been a fun opportunity to invite him in the cabin to increase the tension, but really, at this point, all she wanted was to settle down and get some food in her system. A craving that had vanished the moment their waitress put the plates he had ordered in front of them.

They were sitting face to face on the terrace of a classy restaurant, Kenyan music playing in the background, and Caroline cursed the gods for bringing her _here. _Couldn't Damon have been travelling to Italy where they ate dishes whose names she could pronounce? No, he had to be coming here, where one of the specialties was an unorthodox kind of soup with all sorts of ingredients she couldn't identify.

"You should eat," Damon suggested. "Don't let it get cold."

The blonde nodded and faked inhaling the scent of her plate in appreciation. The smell almost made her eyes water.

"I always forget how strong this tastes," she explained. "So different from our food, back in the US."

Damon nodded, although he hadn't had a good old American burger in forever. See, he lived in Paris, France. Of all places_. _This guy was unreal, Caroline thought for the hundredth time that day. He'd believed her lies about the hotel, offered to go shopping with her when she discovered she had no clothes, remained unmoved when she paraded in front of him in indecent outfits, _and now he was a photographer living in Paris? _

Damon took a mouthful of his stew (soup? Casserole? What was it?) and emitted a sound of satisfaction. Caroline decided to imitate him, deciding that as long as she didn't know what she was eating, she would be fine. If people ordered this every day and the UN hadn't banned Kenya from the touristic destinations of the year, it had to be safe.

"I never thought goat intestines and blood could taste so good," Damon said.

Caroline willed herself to swallow her mouthful without choking, and to do so with a smile. Damon was observing her curiously, and she didn't want to ruin the evening. _One more thing to tell Bekah when she got home. _She thought about Klaus who was probably at the Grill having their usual Monday special by his lonesome, and felt like she was being completely adventurous in this moment.

"I know, right?" she said, trying her best to conceal her rising nausea. "It's my favorite."

He smiled awkwardly and endeavored to find out what she was doing here, exactly. She hadn't booked a hotel, and there wasn't a Fashion Week in Nairobi, so what?

"I just needed some air," she invented. "It's good for my creativity. I'm just glad I made the decision to come now, and met you."

"Consider yourself lucky," he said as he shoved another disgusting spoonful in his mouth. "I'm filling in for a friend of mine, who couldn't come because he wasn't sure about his Yellow Fever Vaccination."

The blood immediately drained from Caroline's face. Vaccinations. She couldn't remember last time she'd had those. Was it a month, or ten years ago? The food alone was probably going to kill her, but still. How dangerous was it to be here without vaccinations, if Damon's friend had been denied the trip? How come nobody at the airport had made sure she wasn't going to agonize over a mosquito bite?

_If she came back alive, she'd sue them. Like, for real. Klaus knew good lawyers. _

"Of course, you've brought your anti-malaria medication with you?" Damon said mockingly as he swallowed his own medication and noticed her silence.

"Yes, it's just that I prefer taking it in the morning, with breakfast."

With a knowing smile, he gave her a pill and winked at her.

_Looks like this man was going to save her in more ways than just one. _

"How about we go on a super private safari, tomorrow?" Damon proposed after a moment of silence.

"Will there be lions?" she asked, clapping her hands before she could help herself.

Damon gave a playful growl, scraping the air. Caroline laughed heartily. When she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she rejected the call, too busy listening to Damon talking about how they'd get close enough to feed fresh meat to the felines and how they'd meet with the Maasai. Every word from his lips screamed of adventure and adrenaline. For the first time in twenty-four hours, she stopped thinking about Klaus, and the stupid curse.

**tbc ...**

* * *

**A/N : I am unforgivable for taking so long to update, especially since this fic is only meant to be a funny interlude until I start publishing deeper stuff. I promise I'll try to be better next time. Anyway, how'd y'all like this chapter? What were your favorite moments? Next chapter will see unforgettable moments during the Safari, and much, much more ;) Thank you if you can find time to drop me a line !**


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